


Five Times Jim Kirk Tries to Emotionally Compromise Spock, and One Time He Doesn’t

by the_moonmoth



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-19
Updated: 2009-11-19
Packaged: 2017-10-12 16:59:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/127055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_moonmoth/pseuds/the_moonmoth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And when Jim's lying with his back against Chekov's console, unable to move and with his vision fading around the edges as he begins to lose consciousness, all he can see are Spock's dark, dark eyes, and the fire inside of them, all directed at him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Jim Kirk Tries to Emotionally Compromise Spock, and One Time He Doesn’t

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this back in June, and it's been languishing on my hard drive since, waiting for me to finish the edits. My shiny new blu ray DVD provided just the impetus :) Huge thanks to for fantastic beta-ing and general wonderfulness. Any remaining errors are my own. Concrit (and US-english-picking) welcome.
> 
> There is a Russian translation of this story [here](http://never-parted.diary.ru/p112658234.htm).

1.

"You _never_ loved her!"

Jim's throat tightens over the words in shame as he says them, but he's done it, he knows: Spock is screaming in rage before he's even completed the sentence.

He's never been subjected to such an onslaught of fury before, and that's saying a hell of a lot. Spock is incredibly strong. And when Jim's lying with his back against Chekov's console, unable to move and with his vision fading around the edges as he begins to lose consciousness, all he can see are Spock's dark, dark eyes, and the fire inside of them, all directed at him.

2.

"Aw, come on, Spock," Bones roars, drawing the attention of half the officers' mess as he throws back something that is very definitely not synthehol. "It's a damn funny joke."

"Humour is an emotion that I do not experience," Spock reminds him equably.

"No shit," McCoy returns. Spock raises an eyebrow. Jim sits back, grinning, knowing that's just going to keep winding Bones up. McCoy sees the grin and wags a finger at him. "Don't you start."

"Start what?" Jim asks innocently.

"Start what," Bones repeats with an eyeroll and abruptly takes himself off, grumbling.

"Doctor McCoy appeared to construe something offensive in your meaning," Spock observes when the good doctor's out of hearing range. "Can you elaborate?"

Jim shakes his head with a rueful smile. "It's the anniversary of his divorce," he explains. "He'll sleep it off and be back to his usual charming self tomorrow."

Spock inclines his head in understanding, then moves like he's going to get up. "I too shall retire, Captain. Good ev-"

"Don't go yet, Spock," Jim interrupts. "The night is yet young," he says with a flourish, feeling relaxed and expansive, "and a little bird tells me you have a tri-D chess set tucked away somewhere."

"Do you play?" Spock asks, a note of surprise colouring his voice.

"No," Jim says, grinning. "You're going to teach me."

Spock doesn't smile, not in the way a human would, but his eyes seem to shine, his face loosen a little.

"It would be my pleasure, Captain."

"I thought pleasure was an emotion," Jim wonders in earnest consternation.

"I was simply making use of an appropriate human idiom," Spock replies smoothly, but Jim doesn't miss the way his eyebrows crease inwards for a moment, the tips of his ears tinged faintest green.

"Ah." Jim smiles to himself as they walk to Spock's quarters, extremely pleased with himself.

3.

Jim and Sulu stagger into the infirmary under Spock's weight, heaving his sweating, half-delirious form onto a biobed. Bones, with a fair measure of glee, can't quite believe that Spock has the Vulcan chicken pox, and Jim will admit that seeing his stoic first officer covered in green blotchy spots and mumbling nonsense is pretty damn funny at first. But then Spock's human physiology gets involved and there are complications and Bones isn't smirking anymore.

They both sit beside his unconscious form, listening in silence to his rapid Vulcan heartbeat on the monitor, waiting to see if McCoy's improvised treatment will work. Eventually even Bones leaves, clapping Jim on the shoulder with a half-hearted order to get some rest.

Jim has spent the last ten minutes staring sightlessly at an engineering report when Spock begins to stir. Jim sits forward hopefully, almost unconsciously resting his hand over the Vulcan's. Almost.

"Hey, buddy," he says as Spock's eyelids crack open. "How're you feeling?"

Spock blinks blearily a couple of times. "I am experiencing a considerable amount of discomfort," he replies, voice hoarse. Then, "Where am I?"

"The infirmary," Jim says slowly, thinking that should be obvious, then notices on the monitor that Spock's temperature is still very high, even for him. "I should call Bones, let him know you're awake."

Spock's hand moves under his and tightens around it. "Don't leave," he says, looking up at Jim with anxious, fever-bright eyes.

Jim says, "That's pretty illogical, wouldn't you say, Mr. Spock?" but what Jim does is squeeze Spock's hand and allow the warmth teetering at the edge of his stomach to spill over and fill him up completely. He figures he can probably put off calling Bones for a minute or two.

4.

Jim groans and rolls over. The floor of the bar is sticky and pebbled with broken shards of glass. Through the ringing in his ears he makes out a crashing sound and he tenses again, wondering why the next blow hasn't landed yet. Then he feels strong hands bunch in the leather of his jacket and the world blurs and he's standing on his feet, smiling dumbly and more than a little painfully at his science officer.

"Spock!"

"Captain." Not a muscle moves in Spock's face and Jim finds himself drunkenly wondering if this is what normal, non-throat-constricting Vulcan anger looks like. Then his knees pick that moment to enter critical failure and in less than half a second he finds himself slung unceremoniously over Spock's shoulders in a fireman's carry.

"What happened to-?" he tries to ask, but has to stop to swallow the nausea down.

"Your assailants have been incapacitated," Spock replies calmly.

"I almost had 'em, you know," Jim protests, unable to decide if it's worse keeping his eyes closed or staring down at the Vulcan's feet. "It's all about rolling with the punches."

"I believe Dr. McCoy will disagree."

"Oh, no, no no no," Jim says, trying to push himself up, off, away. "I'm on shore leave. I don't deserve to be subjected to Bones."

Spock grunts with Jim's efforts at escape and then, to his surprise, carefully rights him again. They're outside now, a little ways away from the bar's entrance, and through his inebriated fog Jim is slightly embarrassed to see two security officers accompanying them, unnoticed until now. Spock gives him a look that makes Jim's insides prickle with heat, then feels himself listing again. Reaching out and holding him tightly around one bicep, Spock calls up to the Enterprise with his free hand, and sends the two security guys away.

Jim grins brightly at Spock, the heat of Spock's hand feeling as though it's burning through his jacket. "The night is yet young," he starts.

"As your first officer," Spock interrupts, "I feel I should inform you that your actions tonight have been extremely irresponsible, Captain."

Jim finds it in himself to be stung. "It's my shore leave," he points out, and a second later can't believe how idiotic that sounds. Spock cocks his head at him with a piercing look, and Jim feels himself wilting under the scrutiny. Spock's got a point of course, damn him.

"Damn you," he mutters feelingly, and then stops short as he realises Spock is raising a hand to his face.

He stares at Spock's brown eyes as Spock gently touches Jim's lower lip, then pulls his hand back, looking at the bright red blood on his fingertips, thrilling at the crease appearing between his upswept eyebrows.

"It is illogical to seek physical harm in this way, Jim," Spock says quietly.

For Bones or Uhura, Jim would have shrugged and said the brawl was for old times' sake. For the rest of the crew he would have just grinned and said, 'you should have seen the other guy'.

For Spock, he finds he can't say anything at all.

5.

"What's on your mind, Spock?"

They're having a late dinner in the deserted officers' mess, and his first officer has been acting strangely all day. More strangely, Jim corrects himself. Quiet, unnervingly so. Maybe he's just tired, Jim muses, though it seems unlikely, given how long Vulcans are rumoured to be able to go without sleep.

Spock finishes his mouthful and carefully sets down his knife and fork on either side of his plate before speaking. Girding himself, Jim thinks.

"Captain, may I ask a personal query?"

"Go on," Jim says warily, half-expecting a lecture on his so-called promiscuity, or his latest suspect command decision.

"Has it been your deliberate intention to induce me to display emotion?"

It's said so matter-of-factly, with an arch of the eyebrow that's so perfectly _Spock_ , that Jim's struck speechless with surprise for a moment. "No!" he finally blurts. "Spock! Of course not."

"You are offended," Spock observes. "Fascinating. It is a logical question to ask. Since the destruction of my planet and the death of my mother I have at times struggled to suppress my emotions as I have been taught to do. It is usually in your presence that I find it most difficult to maintain complete control. Therefore it is logical to conclude that you are a likely cause of my difficulties."

He sounds so reasonable, but Jim notes that Spock's breathing is a little faster, a little heavier, and his eyes are alight with something Jim hadn't quite realised he'd been looking for, all these months.

"How is that the logical conclusion?" he demands, anger piqued. "There are four hundred people on this ship, all of them emotional bar one: you. Maybe it's just finally rubbing off on you." Distantly, he recognises that his reaction is unreasonable, just as he recognises that he doesn't want Spock to stop looking at him like that. He doesn't pause to analyse either of these thoughts.

" _That_ is extremely unlikely," Spock replies. "You are especially illogical and emotional, even among your own species, and also the human I am obliged to spend most time with-"

" _Obliged_?" And that's it, gauntlet thrown down and accepted.

"Therefore I have postulated that you gain some kind of pleasure in goading me." Spock's eyes glint with challenge, and there's no way Jim Kirk can't react to that.

"You're not _obliged_ to do anything, Mr. Spock, except execute my orders, something you have a hard enough time with on an ordinary day." It isn't exactly true – he doesn't know why he says it, only that he can't seem to stop himself.

"I beg your pardon, Captain, that is not the case," Spock replies, something dangerous edging his voice.

"The only reason we spend this much time together-"

"I am simply fulfilling my duties as a responsible first officer," Spock interrupts, raising his voice over Jim's, "Given that you have shown yourself to be incapable of acting in your own best interests."

"-is because you _like it_."

They're both standing now, facing off across the table. "Face it," Jim says roughly into the ringing silence, "you want your emotions. You like them."

Spock stares daggers at him before suddenly tossing the table aside as though it were made of paper. Jim finds himself stumbling backwards with the Vulcan's hands on his neck and for a moment of strange elation he thinks he's in for another throttling before his back hits the bulkhead and Spock presses his mouth to Jim's, wet and hot and shockingly sweet.

It takes half a startled intake of breath before Jim has his hands on Spock's back, his shoulder blades, his neck, his uniform fastenings, moaning as he pushes his tongue into Spock's mouth, hot and incredibly good. Spock pulls back for a split second and Jim watches him greedily, watches his eyes, aflame with fury and need, and as Spock starts kissing him again, pushing at Jim until they're impossibly close, he realises two things: one, that the other man is really, truly out of control, and two, that this _is_ exactly what he wanted.

"Stop," he says, turning his face away, "stop. Stop it, Spock. Just stop it."

And Spock does stop. Slowly, gradually, as though it takes a great effort to pull himself back under his own command. The soft kisses down Jim's cheek to his neck, to the sensitive skin just behind his ear, are almost unbearable and Jim squeezes his eyes closed to stop himself from reciprocating any further – he can't forcibly dislodge the stronger Vulcan.

Eventually, Spock just sags against him, solid and warm and heavy, forehead resting on Jim's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Jim whispers in one pointy ear. "I'm so sorry." And he doesn't wrap his arms around Spock, because he knows that that would be only for him.

1.

Spock's apology is expected, and only serves to heighten Jim's creeping sense of shame. Spock's sitting cross-legged in his dimly-lit quarters, the meditation lamp flickering, not meeting Jim's eyes as though looking at him is too difficult. In the end Jim can't listen to any more, holding up a hand to halt Spock's carefully measured words. The other man watches him quizzically as Jim kneels down opposite him, the lamp between them.

"Spock, listen," Jim says. "I should be the one apologising. I did this to you, and maybe I didn't realise exactly what I was doing, but I still shouldn't have done it."

"Captain," Spock starts, hesitates, "Jim. Perhaps it is illogical for each of us to apportion all of the blame to ourselves. For example, you would never have been successful had I not suffered a loss of such magnitude recently, nor if I were not already physically attracted to you."

He's about to go on, but Jim, gaping, blurts out, "What? Wait, you're just going to come out and say something like that?"

"Vulcans do not lie," Spock reminds him, quirking an eyebrow.

"They sure as hell don't always tell the truth, either," Jim replies, but finds himself looking at the lamp flame rather than at Spock.

"I met my older self while we were on Earth," Spock says thoughtfully after a moment.

Jim glances up. "Huh. I thought I felt the Universe imploding..."

"Indeed," Spock replies, tilting his head in what Jim thinks is wry acknowledgement of his own future deceit. "He told me that we would share a friendship that would define us both." He pauses, looking a little strained. "I desire that, Jim," he finally says, and Jim's throat tightens. "However, as you have seen, I am not yet ready to handle... myself. I need time – to meditate, to recover from all that we have been through these last few months. You stir up... emotions in me. That is your nature, and I do not wish you to change it, simply that you understand what is in my nature, and accept that also."

"I do," Jim says quietly, meeting brown eyes that, for once, don't seem to judge him. "I will." And then, "Thank you."

Spock inclines his head in acknowledgement. "Would you like to join me in meditation?"

Jim grins, snorting with relieved laughter. Spock raises an eyebrow. "Oh, you're serious," Jim says in dismay, smile slipping from his face.

The next couple of seconds stretch uncomfortably until something subtle changes in Spock's face, and Jim realises his eyes are dancing with his singularly Vulcan not-a-smile.

"Good evening, Captain," Spock says, and Jim grins again, slapping him on the shoulder before letting himself out.


End file.
